


Too Much

by PsychedelicShips



Series: My Sanders Sides one shots [16]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:53:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27877901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PsychedelicShips/pseuds/PsychedelicShips
Summary: Logan tried to help.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Logic | Logan Sanders
Series: My Sanders Sides one shots [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1846756
Comments: 5
Kudos: 21





	Too Much

The world is too bright. Too loud. It’s too much.

Virgil slides into a corner, knees pulling to his chest and hood over his head. He hears a voice, but he can’t make out words or a face. 

There’s a hand on his shoulder. 

He flinches away, his breathing heavy. The hand leaves. 

“Virgil?”

He heard his name, but couldn’t respond.    
“Virgil, breathe for me. In and out, okay?”

He can’t. He shakes his head, and the hand comes back on his shoulder. He’s aware of everything now- the fuzz of his hoodie against his My Chemical Romance shirt against his skin, his jeans tight around his legs, his shoes pinching his feet. 

Virgil jumps away, his hand connecting to- someone. He heard a crack, but didn’t know what had caused it. 

There was his name again. “Virgil!”

Suddenly he can breath again. He looks up and sees Logan holding his nose. 

“Logan- I’m sorry- I-” 

Virgil stands and runs to his room. 

“Virgil, wait-” 

Logan doesn’t get a full sentence out before Virgil slams his door closed. 

This was just like him, wasn’t it? He was anxiety. Anxiety hurt people. He had hurt Logan...

Virgil pulled his headphones on, not even bothering to press play on his music. He just needed something, anything, to muffle the knock on his door. 

But when the knocking subsided, Virgil turned the music on, the heavy bass drums drawing out the thoughts. 

The world might not have been so loud anymore, but his thoughts definitely were. 

“I’m sorry, Logan,” he whispers into the pillow that he’s squeezing against his chest.


End file.
